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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26907079">His Last Christmas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hinacolada/pseuds/hinacolada'>hinacolada</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Depressed Hinata Shouyou, Hallucinations, Hinata Shouyou-centric, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:54:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,387</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26907079</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hinacolada/pseuds/hinacolada</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As they dangle their legs off the edge and hang onto the safety railing for dear life, Shouyou wonders how easy it would be to jump. To fall peacefully at the raging traffic down below, his worries, burdens, memories, all losing themselves in the moment.</p><p>There are two things Shouyou loves, two things to keep him going. One being volleyball, the other — well, Tobio. But those do not know his struggles, his past.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Shouyou &amp; Miya Atsumu, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>202</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Pinch punch, first of the month.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Trigger warning / hallucinations, implied abuse(?), suicidal thoughts, self-harm<br/>Content warning / a lot of swearing, word uses such as ‘god’ &amp; ‘jesus’</p><p>In no way does this story intend to glorify self-harm.<br/>Please do not read on if you get triggered by any of the mentioned themes above.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Pinch punch, first of the month.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Shouyou?”</em>
</p><p>God, my head hurts so much.</p><p>
  <em>“Earth to Shouyou?”</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Snap, snap.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hey, buddy, you there?"</em>
</p><p>Ah, Jesus, my eyes are so foggy.</p><p>
  <em>“It’s time to leave.”</em>
</p><p>Who is this? Piss off, I want to sleep. Just a little longer.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Poke.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>-----</p><p>Shouyou wearily looks around his surroundings, a fat ball of platinum blonde blocking half his view.</p><p>He shoots up.</p><p>“What the fuck?”</p><p>Pause.</p><p>“…<em>Where</em> the fuck?”</p><p>Confused and half asleep, he looks left, to the right, then left again to make sure. His location seems a fancy restaurant, too fancy to be coming here on his own. There are people, does he know them? And ah- Oh. <em>Oh fuck</em>.</p><p>He fell asleep in the middle of a fucking team meet.</p><p>Shouyou slaps his cheeks and wails. “God. God fucking dammit Hinata Shouyou!” He swings his head back and throws it forward, slowing down an inch before he hits the table.</p><p>He sighs. “Sorry.”</p><p>That fat lump of- god, whatever it was (platinum?), reaches forward and brushes the hair out of Shouyou’s face.</p><p>“Calm down Sho-kun. Nothin’ to be sorry for,” <em>it</em> says- Oh. <em>Atsumu</em> says with a smile. “Did ya hear me earlier? Maybe I have to perform it again.”</p><p>Meian furrows his brow and shoots Atsumu a dagger. “Don’t.”</p><p>“Hey, no, he needs to be conscious for it to work<em>. Pinch punch, first of the month!</em>”</p><p>
  <em>Shhhh.</em>
</p><p>Shouyou’s head is <em>pounding</em>, he only had one or two drinks, didn’t he?</p><p>“Oi, what’s the time?” he groans, fighting back the urge to knock some sense into his brain.</p><p>Meian flips his phone out his jacket pocket and takes a glance at the screen. “Eight past twelve. AM. First of December.”</p><p>Shouyou leans back into his chair. Ah god, the impact hurt more than usual, did he get an infection? He holds in a wince the doesn’t dare spill out his mouth. “I guess that explains why this moron is using me as a punching bag.”</p><p>He looks away into the distance and rolls his eyes, knowing damn well Atsumu is pouting right now.</p><p>What a stupid idea to pop a sleeping pill before going out. Definitely did <em>not</em> go well with the drink he ordered. Well, the drink Bokuto told him to order, to be exact.</p><p>And hey, wait, why does everyone’s voice keep fading out? Was Omi-san here the whole time?</p><p>Get your head in the damn game, Shouyou.</p><p>He lets out his signature smile at the team and yawns, covering his mouth to hide the pained expression seeping out his face. His back hurt like a bitch. <em>Please </em>don’t be bleeding, he begs.</p><p>Wait, Meian said it’s past twelve, right? The next day?</p><p>Shit.</p><p>Shouyou flies out his seat and swings his backpack across his shoulder. “I should get going.”</p><p>“Wait,” Meian interrupts, stopping him from leaving. “I have exciting news for everyone.”</p><p>The team looks around and mutters amongst each other, Meian smiles at Shouyou and motions him to sit back down. He bites the inside of his lip and twiddles with his thumbs, his legs jittering ever so slightly.</p><p>Atsumu takes account of Shouyou’s actions.</p><p>“Everything okay, Sho-kun?” He asks.</p><p>It takes a moment for him to process Atsumu’s words. Shouyou scratches his back, and <em>oh no</em>, was that blood?</p><p>“O-oh! I’m okay! I’m excited to hear the news,” he fakes a smile and attempts to lick the blood off his finger as secretly as possible.</p><p>Meian grins. “The V-League organized an event for the top two division 1 teams,” he pauses, and silence fills the room, everyone losing themselves in thought. “Black Jackals and Schweiden Adlers are playing a special match for Christmas eve, live on TV!”</p><p>Bokuto jumps up excitedly and shakes Atsumu by his shoulders, “that’s so freaking cool!” a squeak coming from the back of his throat.</p><p>And cute, is Omi-san smiling under his mask? The rest of the MSBY looks thrilled, too.</p><p>The news would excite Shouyou, he loves volleyball. It’s his life, after all. But things change. He sat there trying to hide the worry off his face, making it less noticeable at the least.</p><p>Shouyou was hiding a dark secret, nobody knew but himself. The guilt is almost unbearable, and he forces himself to not fly out the restaurant door that instant.</p><p>“That’s not all the good news!” Meian raves.</p><p>He reaches into his endless bag, fiddles with its contents and pulls out a small tub. It could fit approximately 12 jellybeans, Shouyou thought to himself. Instead, it was filled to the brim with folded pieces of paper.</p><p>“Who’s ready to participate in the MSBY Secret Santa?!” Meian growls, opening the tub to show his team.</p><p>A collection of grins spread across everyone’s face, all except Shouyou.</p><p>“I can’t,” he mumbles, looking down at his feet.</p><p>The noise level in the room lowered unintentionally, each person trying to catch onto what was said.</p><p> “Pardon?” Shouyou wasn’t sure who was speaking, so he hesitates to finish his sentence.</p><p>“I don’t want to participate,” he glances at the pairs of eyes watching him, “I can’t.”</p><p>Nobody speaks for a moment, all taking in Shouyou’s words.</p><p>Meian breaks the silence. “That’s okay, don’t stress!” he gives Shouyou a reassuring smile and pats him on the back.</p><p>He sticks his hand into the tub and ruffles around the paper, pulling out one with “Shouyou” written on it.</p><p>“You have ten seconds to change your mind,” Meian winks, waving the slip around, causing Shouyou to chuckle slightly.</p><p>“Oh, no, it’s okay!” he smiles, “I genuinely can’t.”</p><p>Meian nods in approval and faces the rest of his team. “Alright, everyone! As usual, take a paper out of the tub and don’t tell anyone who. If you got yourself, speak up and we’ll do a redraw.”</p><p>The chitchat amidst the table grew louder as each member picked out a name.</p><p>Shouyou wants to <em>leave</em>, to get out of this damn place and go home. And don’t tell me that stupid sleeping pill is kicking in for a second time. When did it get so quiet? Is that darkness?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>No, stop, it hurts. Please. </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>STOP! </em>
  </strong>
</p><p>“-uyou?”</p><p>
  <em>I didn’t do anything wrong. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I didn’t do anything… please.</em>
</p><p>“-houyou?”</p><p>
  <em>Don’t hit me, I beg.</em>
</p><p>“-o-kun?”</p><p>
  <em>It wasn’t my fault.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>“Shouyou Hinata!”</strong>
</p><p>“A-ah!” Shouyou flutters his eyes open and soars up.</p><p>“Are ya okay? You dozed off again, but it seemed like you had a bad dream.” Atsumu concerns, giving Shouyou a sympathetic look.</p><p>
  <em>But that’s not Atsumu, Atsumu doesn’t have orange hair. Why’s he holding a scalpel? No, please, let it go. Don’t get closer, get your filthy hands away! <strong>I’m your child, for fucks sake! </strong></em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p><p>Wait… platinum?</p><p>He hates his stupid mind, useless fucking brain, stop imagining things! It’s <strong>Atsumu</strong>. No one else.</p><p>“Sho-kun?” Atsumu waves at his face, attempting to get his attention, “why are you crying?”</p><p>Crying? He wipes at his right cheek slowly, feeling the wetness from his eye.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>He rapidly wipes the rest from his other eye and grabs his belongings from the floor. “I have to go, I’m so sorry,” Shouyou snivels behind him and glides out the door.</p><p> </p><p>They can’t know, they’re not supposed to find out.</p><p>Unaware that he was followed, Shouyou flinches.</p><p>“Hey, what’s up?” a voice whispers, grabbing him by the shoulder.</p><p>Shouyou spins around, shoving the man off him. “<strong>Fuck off!</strong> Get away from me you fucking basta-“</p><p>…Atsumu?</p><p>No.</p><p>No, no, no!</p><p>Shouyou howls, tears spilling down his face. “I’m so sorry, Atsumu. I thought you were someone else. Fuck! Forgive me.”</p><p>He covers his gaping mouth and disappears into the darkness of the alleyway, making sure not to look back.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>The ticking silence from Shouyou’s own home is comforting, and if it were a being, they’d be friends. One thing that could understand him is the darkness in his bedroom, overpowering his reading light. The only thing that knows, something he doesn’t fear of change, and undoubtedly no fake smiles.</p><p>He has a boyfriend. Famous Kageyama Tobio, powder-curry-service-ace-guy, rivals to lovers. Was it his dick talking or his heart? <em>God</em>, Shouyou’s not mentally stable enough to be dating someone, but he listens to his head, that son of a bitch.</p><p>Despite being on different teams, they keep a good relationship. They meet up often, taking a walk to Tobio’s apartment (at midnight, mostly) and climbing up to the rooftop. Shouyou preferred to call it their ‘signature spot.’</p><p>As they dangle their legs off the edge and hang onto the safety railing for dear life, Shouyou wonders how easy it would be to <em>jump</em>. To fall peacefully at the raging traffic down below, his worries, burdens, <em>memories</em>, all losing themselves in the moment.</p><p>There are two things Shouyou loves, two things to keep him going. One being volleyball, the other, well, <em>Tobio</em>. But those do not know his struggles, his <em>past</em>. Volleyball isn’t a living organism. It won’t understand, it is physically incapable.</p><p>And Tobio?</p><p>Shouyou is scared, how would he react? Would he leave? Things will change; Shouyou <strong>hates</strong> change. He’s afraid there’d be no bickering, no fun. He believes a typical day between them would be constant checkup calls and worry. Stress is horrible for your skin, Tobio.</p><p>Your skin is wonderful, and I don’t want you to ruin it because of me.</p><p>Shouyou knows his boyfriend loves him, but that’s not the case. ‘Love’ cannot save him; he’s too far down the rabbit hole to come back. No matter the situation, he won’t stop, he won’t get help. He doesn’t <em>need</em> it, it’s all under control, <em>right</em>?</p><p> </p><p>Shouyou spins the shower tap on, ripping his jacket off in the meantime. Oh yeah, he certainly noticed <em>that</em>.</p><p>The red stain on his back, drenching his yellow shirt. He pulls it off and stares at the mammoth cut, the flow of blood dripping down his lats. It’s gotten substantial, and <em>yuck</em>, was that bone showing? The litter of smaller wounds pepper around his skin, some scabbing, some scars - some even slightly bleeding.</p><p>He knew going that deep would cause problems, but god, he just wanted to try it once. And honestly, it felt good, he’d do it again if it didn’t end in needing stitches. He’s been cutting for years now, keeping a tally in his head throughout the day. Every fuck up, every feeling of guilt, it all adds up.</p><p>Today – well, yesterday, the total was 12. 2 for forgetting to message Tobio, 1 for taking a sleeping pill before a team meet, 2 for falling asleep, 1 for not participating, another 2 for falling asleep <em>again</em>, 1 for letting his guard down around his teammates, and lastly, 3 for hurting Atsumu.</p><p>He knew it was wrong. It wasn’t safe, it was risky, he could nick a vein and accidentally kill himself right there.</p><p>But he continues.</p><p><em>This</em> is the thing nobody knows about, and he prefers to keep it that way.</p><p> </p><p>He picks up his phone from the sink and opens his messenger app. 10 unread messages from Tobio, way to fucking go Shouyou.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Tobio &lt;3</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span class="u">7:12PM, Friday.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Shouyou? Is everything okay?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ah, sorry! I forgot you had a team meet. I hope you had fun!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Text me when you get home, I love you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span class="u">12:34AM, Saturday.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hi!! Sorry for not replying, gahh! </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I fell asleep, twice! It was embarrassing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Did you hear about the special match?????</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’M SO EXCITED!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>He feels bad for lying, for pretending like he was okay. It’s all to protect Tobio, that’s all. Nothing more.</p><p>Shouyou opens the cabinet above the mirror, and <strong><em>ah</em></strong>, A packet of all his best friends. They smile at him willingly, their sharp blades taunting him, and reaching into the packet, he takes out the sharpest one he could prick his finger on.</p><p>He holds it tight and steps into the shower, letting out that gnarly wince. Each speckle of water hitting his skin feels like acid rain, he should mend that gash back up. Not that he was a doctor or anything (he wasn’t), he learnt how to treat his wounds and stitch them closed if necessary. Honestly, it’s a much needed life skill – for Shouyou at least.</p><p>He motions the blade across his body, contemplating which area of skin he should mark. Shoulders and wrists are a definite no; they’re too obvious, they would show when he wears his training shirt. Alternatively, he settles on his chest and inner thigh.</p><p> </p><p><em>One</em>.</p><p>Gosh, it feels sensational.</p><p><em>Two</em>.</p><p>Ah, the pain, it’s perfect.</p><p><em>Five</em>.</p><p>The blood drops on the floor; they’re beautiful.</p><p><em>Eleven</em>.</p><p>He deserves this, useless bastard.</p><p><em>Twelve</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Shouyou slides down to the shower floor and drops the blade; his work here is done.</p><p>As always, his head clogs with regret.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Hinata Shouyou was going to take his own life before Christmas.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I punched a guy.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please bear with me while my writing style goes through a crisis... Also, I feel like this chapter is poorly written, I apologize. I'm not sure what quite happened there, hah.</p><p>tw / mention of self harm, suicidal thoughts, homophobic language</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He sits there.</p><p>Shouyou sits on the cold shower floor, watching as each speckle of water falls and rolls down his limbs. The drops force his wounded thigh to complain, dragging a wince out his mouth from the discomfort of water on his cuts. He squeezes his eyes shut in response and sighs. He taps his head backwards on the wall behind him, listening to the echo from the impact run around the bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>Regular showers weren’t a normal thing until a couple of years ago. Usually, he showered once a day, specifically to keep clean or for the sake of personal hygiene. However, after Shouyou’s cutting got worse, it became more of a habit.</p><p>Morning and nightly showers made an occurrence nearly every day.</p><p>The constant feeling of wanting to <em>hurt</em>, or the urge to clean his wounds floated around his mind nonstop. Or additionally, he scrubbed and scrubbed to get this <em>disgusting</em> feeling off him.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t always like this; Shouyou voices to himself regularly as if he begs his mind to fall for his tricks and <em>believe</em> that shit.</p><p>It was a lie.</p><p>Well, almost.</p><p>He was happy, at some stage in his life. Not that he remembers it well. He was young, and with time, his brain developed, and all the memories moved out.</p><p> </p><p>He can’t remember the last time he let out a genuine smile. Not that anyone noticed, he was a great actor after all. He almost considered it to be a backup career; no one had a clue his whole ‘butterfly personality’ was nothing more than a façade.</p><p> </p><p>Shouyou breathes through his nose and exhales out his mouth, flicking his eyes open to stare at the drain. He watches the water and blood tangle together, like two bunnies in heat. Undeniably they mix well, a match made in heaven.</p><p>Sometimes he wishes Tobio could be the water to his blood – drowning out his strong emotions, leaving nothing but a splash of hope and a fading array of sadness.</p><p> </p><p>Frankly, Tobio makes him feel like shit. Whether that be more of a Shouyou problem, or not.</p><p>Loneliness can truly fuck with your mind.</p><p> </p><p>He hoists himself up from the floor with help of the metal railing he installed on the shower walls. He knew its purpose was for people with physical disabilities; however, he comes to the conclusion it aids him with the dizziness from loss of blood.</p><p> </p><p>The first time Tobio showered in his home, he made fun of Shouyou in a slightly ableist way that forced the latter to contemplate <em>what</em> he was getting out of their relationship. He brushed it off, as Tobio is stupidly blunt and has no clue what his words mean.</p><p>Thankfully, he decided that Shouyou’s rails help with vertigo from his lava hot showers.</p><p><em>Bastard, using all the hot water</em>, Shouyou scoffs to himself every time Tobio comes over.</p><p> </p><p>Pushing his mind back to the present, Shouyou twists off the tap and leans against the wall, straining the quakes in his thighs to subside. He holds in a deep breath and pushes himself out the shower door, letting stray drops of blood slide down his legs.</p><p>He picks up the razor from the ground and wraps a fresh towel around his frame as he stumbles towards the mirror. He scrunches his nose at the sight of himself, muttering words such as <em>disgusting</em> and <em>ugly</em> while opening the cabinet.</p><p> </p><p>He rinses the razor and shoves it back into the packet without drying, replacing his hold with an orange sleeping pill bottle placed in the left corner. You could consider Shouyou to be an insomniac.</p><p> </p><p>Without help from a few doses of chalky medication, there was no way in hell he would get to sleep soundlessly. They say darkness feeds on negative emotions, your thoughts ultimately taking over anything positive. Shouyou supposes it to be true. Because alas, he feels like a piece of shit at night.</p><p> </p><p>His mind radiates with toxic thoughts and memories, taunting his very existence for the point of being. He’s scared of stupid things, like kitchen knives and ropes – hell, he even thinks he has a phobia of chairs.</p><p>Chairphobia. Sounds ridiculous, right?</p><p>His childhood was out of the ordinary, and if truth be told, it began to impact his daily life as an adult.</p><p> </p><p>He pops three too many sleeping pills before throwing the towel at the door and shimmying into his pajamas. In the back of his mind, he hopes it’ll be enough to kill him, pushing him into a deep sleep for the rest of his life. Not that Shouyou had much to live for, anyway. It was a gamble, and sometimes he likes to amp his dose up by a pill or two, wondering he'll die <em>this time</em>; a game of life or death.</p><p> </p><p>He dumps the container of medication into the drawer of his bedside table. He jumps into bed and settles his head against an unwashed pillow.</p><p>He falls asleep within the first blink.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>+ + +</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ultimately, mornings are a bitch.</p><p> </p><p>He isn’t sure if it’s the tiredness from his overtake in pills, or his mind genuinely being shitty, but waking up is a hassle. The constant feeling of a burdensome, dark cloud lingering above, fucking with his mentality to the point of wanting to shrivel up and stop breathing – it’s suffocating.</p><p> </p><p>If Shouyou could, he’d sleep forever. Opening his eyes in this situation does not seem like an idea he’d happily grasp onto.</p><p>Thank god for Saturdays, a day where he has no responsibilities to keep up with, and he can have alone time to sleep the day away.</p><p> </p><p>Being a professional volleyballer is tiring, and it hurts ten times more with a vast weight on his back. Shouyou feels his mask crack ever so slightly, withering away after each precious hour.</p><p>He doesn’t know how long he can take it, because death seems like the right path at this point.</p><p> </p><p>He shakes these thoughts from his head and groggily reaches for his phone charging on the nightstand. He unplugs the cable, letting it drop from his grip and slither down to the floor.</p><p>
  <em>Two new messages. Kageyama Tobio. </em>
</p><p>It’s too early in the morning for this shit.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Tobio &lt;3</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span class="u">8:31am, Saturday</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Want to see a movie? I got tickets for the new psychological horror!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I heard it’s insane, one that fucks with your mind!!</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Shouyou <em>hates</em> movies like that. It’s all too familiar, triggering, you could say; what a great day to have PTSD without your boyfriend knowing.</p><p>Well, anything for Tobio, right?</p><p>Shouyou should act like a better partner.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Tobio &lt;3</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span class="u">8:58am, Saturday</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Okay, I’m down!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Meet at the usual train station?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Shouyou mentally prepares himself, because god, today is going to be a long day.</p><p> </p><p>Groggily, he locks his phone and places it back on the nightstand, shutting his eyes in the process. He lays on his back and sighs.</p><p>Sometimes, Shouyou thinks it’s nice to lay down and recollect his thoughts. Living can be rigid, he believes, especially when you want to kill yourself every five minutes.</p><p>Not to be selfish, but he hopes the train crashes on the way to the cinema. Sorry, Tobio.</p><p> </p><p>Shouyou waits a few moments, bites his tongue and flutters open his eyes, ready for the day.</p><p><em>Beds are too comfortable</em>; he thinks to himself.</p><p>If he could, he would spend all day suffocating in his pillows and blankets. It’s like a cloud, and sometimes he begs it will take him away so he can float above the sky. An intoxicating feeling.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>+ + +</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Despite his love for cinemas as a kid, he dreads the movie. Tobio is with him, sure. But when his mind is so fucked up and can’t comprehend its surroundings, Shouyou is alone. The darkness engulfs him, scares him, because <em>who knows</em> what’s lurking in the corner.</p><p> </p><p>Shouyou stands against the wall and watches Tobio move up in line to order tickets and drinks, zoning in and out of subconsciousness. That person behind Tobio looks abnormally familiar.</p><p>Orange hair, thin build, and long, <em>long</em>, taunting fingers.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Shh, Shouyou. You don’t need to make a noise. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>It’ll all be over soon.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Just wait one more week. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Shouyou.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Good boys get rewards. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Shouyou!”</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Can’t you see? She left because of you.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“SHOUYOU!”</p><p>“Uh… huh?!” Shouyou shakes his head from his thoughts and looks up. “Tobio?”</p><p>“Now’s not the time to play musical statues,” he giggles, handing Shouyou a cup and slip of paper. “Ticket and drink.”</p><p>“Oh, right. Thanks,” Shouyou smiles warmly and takes the items out of Tobio’s hand.</p><p>“Ready to have your mind fucked?”</p><p>“I hope so.”</p><p> </p><p>No one in line had orange hair.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Throughout the movie, Shouyou squirms in his seat as he watches the contents on the big screen play. He can see Tobio in the corner of his eye giving him slight glimpses here and there as if to say, <em>‘shut up and let me enjoy the movie.’ </em></p><p>But in all honesty, he can’t handle it. The movie is a lot worse than the trailer ought it to be, and if Shouyou knew it’d make him feel this bad, he would’ve opted out in a heartbeat.</p><p>He watches the girl walk through doors and doors worth of hallways and imagines himself in her place. <em>Starved, beaten and bruised, trying not to let a single peep tumble out his lips. He hears a door creak. The noise scares him, and his feet and heartrate pick up. He runs, but the damn hallway never ends, so he runs faster, the door opens wider and then-</em></p><p>Ouch!</p><p> </p><p>Shouyou flinches and looks down at the hand travelling up his thigh. Tobio’s fingers caress his skin and fumble directly above his fresh wounds, causing pain to shoot through his leg and a whimper out his mouth.</p><p>“Everything okay?” Tobio questions, glancing at Shouyou in worry.</p><p>“Ah, yeah,” Shouyou bites his tongue and holds his breath, “your hand is squeezing too hard.”</p><p>“Too hard? I’m not applying any pressure.”</p><p>“Sorry, I uh, I meant it’s kind of creeping me out,” Shouyou awkwardly smiles. “You know, with the movie and all.”</p><p>Tobio forms an ‘o’ with his mouth in contemplation, removes his hand and focuses his attention back to the movie. They don’t speak until the film is over, not that Shouyou cares, anyway.</p><p> </p><p>The train ride home seems to drag on forever. Shouyou barely hangs on by a few threads, and if he wasn’t in a public place right now, he would gladly give in to the urge to curl up into a ball and cry. He drowns himself in memories of the movie, replays certain moments and <em>screams</em> – on the inside, of course. His body racks with fear and he reaches for Tobio’s hand.</p><p>He looks at Shouyou in awe and accepts it with no hesitation, leaning his head against the other’s shoulder.</p><p>“Is something wrong? Or do you love me so much you need to hold my hand?” Tobio smirks, squeezing their hands tighter.</p><p>“The movie sucked.”</p><p>“Were you that scared?” Tobio scrunches his face up and lets out a confused smile. “Now that I think about it, you did seem pretty shaken when I touched your thigh.”</p><p> </p><p>Shouyou gasps offendedly and shakes his head, because god, Kageyama Tobio is an idiot.</p><p>“Don’t be an asshole,” Shouyou rolls his eyes and lets go of Tobio’s hand. “Change the subject.”</p><p>“Seriously?” Tobio groans. “Well, I, for one, very much enjoyed that movie.”</p><p>“I told you to change the subject.”</p><p>Tobio narrows his eyes and glares right down Shouyou’s soul. He inhales and exhales with excessive force, biting his tongue down to stop him from saying anything stupid. “Fine.”</p><p>Shouyou shakes his head in disapproval. “Is your team doing a secret santa?”</p><p>“Yeah. I got Ushijima. Out of all people!” Tobio sighs and runs his thumb and index finger across his eyebrows. “What the fuck am I supposed to get him? A rake? A broom? This is bullshit.”</p><p>“Hah! Honestly, he’s so blunt you could get him a bag of dirt and he’ll be happy.” Shouyou chuckles. “Get him some hand cream or something. Make it scented, strawberry maybe. He’ll be through the roof!”</p><p> </p><p>Silence floods the train and both Shouyou and Tobio don’t speak.</p><p>But then comes a peep.</p><p>And another.</p><p>And then six more until both men are hysterically laughing to the point where they need to hold onto the safety rails.</p><p> </p><p>“Hand cream! Fucking genius!” Tobio roars, slapping his knee is absolute uncontrol. “And scented, too! He’d love it!”</p><p>Shouyou wheezes for air and hangs onto chair railing for dear life, spurting out whatever nonsense fills his brain. “I can already imagine his reaction!”</p><p>Shouyou reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of air, motioning his hand as if he’s twisting off a cap for hand cream.</p><p>“The texture is very smooth,” he growls in a low voice (to mimic Ushijima, of course), and pretends to pour an obnoxious amount into his hands. “It leaves my skin feeling extra soft and baby-like. I rate this product a 10 out of 10, thank you Tobio for this lovely gift.”</p><p>Tobio clasps Shouyou’s shoulder and gives it a shake, “I’m totally going to get him one.”</p><p>Small giggles slowly pour out their lips, filling the train with a slightly annoying ring that gains them stares. They breathe raggedly for a moment, catching their breathes from something that was <em>not</em> supposed to be this funny.</p><p> </p><p>Tobio exhales. “Say, is your team doing a secret santa too?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Shouyou smiles and looks up at Tobio’s eyes, reaching for his hand again. His hands are smooth, yet nowhere near Ushijima’s standard.</p><p>“Who did you get?” Tobio answers back, accepting the hand offering.</p><p>“Ah… about that.”</p><p>“About that?”</p><p>Shouyou trails his bottom lip with his tongue and analysis what he’s going to say. He can’t tell Tobio the <em>real</em> reason, of course. He’s not ready for that. Honestly, he’s not ready for anything at the moment.</p><p>“I have… plans.”</p><p>“Plans?” Tobio furrows his brow.</p><p>“It’s personal, I don’t think I should-“</p><p> </p><p>“Oi!”</p><p>Both men flick their eyes up in shock at the man standing in front of them. He’s tall, abnormally thin, arms laced with harsh veins and a <em>very</em> ugly snake tattoo on his forearm. Shouyou believes him to be early twenties at the most, judging by his baby face.</p><p>“Can I help you?” Tobio sneers.</p><p> </p><p>The man shoots them both a disgusting glance and scoffs. “Are you guys like… gay?”</p><p>Shouyou and Tobio both send each other a confused glance and reply in almost unison. “Huh-“</p><p>“Do ya fuck each other in the ass?”</p><p>Shouyou shoots up from his train seat and glares right into the man’s eyes.</p><p>“Shouyou, don’t-“</p><p>“<em>Who the fuck do you think you are?</em> Getting into our business like that?” he pushes his finger deep into the man’s chest.</p><p> </p><p>The man smirks and paces backwards. “Well, I been sitting in that seat over there, mindin’ myself until I see you and this pathetic excuse of a gay holding hands!” The man crosses his arms, a taunting expression cracking through his face.</p><p>Shouyou steps another inch closer, shooting the man a dirty glance up and down. “What a load of fucking prejudice.”</p><p>“You’re disgusting, ya know? Dirtying all the train seats like an asshole, have some fuckin’ respect, man,” he scorns. “Look, your boyfriend over there is too weak to even say anything. Actin’ all tough and shit before. Hilarious.”</p><p> </p><p>The man gathers up saliva in his mouth and spits at Shouyou, making him snap. That was the last straw.</p><p>Shouyou wounds his fist and sends a punch flying towards the man’s cheek. He stumbles back, rubs the side of his face and gasps.</p><p>“ASSAULT!” He growls, lip cracking slightly, allowing blood to slowly melt over the wound. “THIS GAY MAN ASSAULTED ME!”</p><p> </p><p>Warmth spreads up Shouyou’s arms and throughout his body as he curls his fingers in exasperation. He shakes his head in anger and sends his body flying towards the man again, shoving him straight into the train door. It rattles, and if people weren’t looking before, they sure were now.</p><p> </p><p>Tobio flies out of his seat and grabs Shouyou by the arm, pulling him away with all his strength. “Shouyou, stop!”</p><p>“LET GO OF ME TOBIO!”</p><p>“Don’t fight it, Shouyou! We need to leave!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Shouyou leans his head back into the uncushioned chair and stares at the clock ticking on the wall. It’s rather calming, despite how his heartbeat was off the charts a couple of hours ago. He watches through the tiny crack in the door as Tobio speaks to someone at the front desk, biting the top of his pen as he signs papers.</p><p>Shouyou fucked up.  </p><p>He doesn’t quite remember what came over him, but he wasn’t in his right mind. It’s not every day you see him beating up some unarmed man in a train carriage on a Saturday afternoon.</p><p> </p><p>If he were to be honest, he didn’t have any regrets. The guy was homophobic and called both Shouyou and Tobio nasty things. He was aware of the fact that his actions have consequences, which is why he landed himself smack into the police station.</p><p>Thankfully he got away with most of it, being a professional volleyballer and all. Shouyou wouldn’t usually throw his money at something like this, however.</p><p>Maybe he does have a few regrets; <em>please don’t ruin my reputation</em>, he begs.</p><p>But a ¥41,400 fine is not something to be proud of. The guilt gives him the urge to <em>hurt</em> – hopefully he leaves this place soon so he can hop into the shower and <em>cry</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you understand what you did wrong?”</p><p>Shouyou feels a hand on his shoulder, looking up at the policeman behind him. He seemed to be older, hence the grey hairs swirling around the crown of his head. “Yeah. Sorry.”</p><p>The man behind him sighs and gives him a sympathetic smile. “I would do the same if I were you, homophobes suck. But it’s my job, I’m supposed to give you a fine.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know.”</p><p>“Don’t seem so down, kid. I’ve seen your matches on TV. You’ll be going places, that’s for sure.” The policeman gives him a light squeeze. “Cheer up.”</p><p>Shouyou smiles warmly. “Thanks, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t believe a word the policeman said. No way in hell was he going places. He’s worthless, a lost cause. He hasn’t changed since High School. Clumsy piece of shit.</p><p>Someone praising him is enough to rile him up. Why can’t they understand? <em>Put yourself in other people’s shoes</em>, his mother would tell him when he was younger. He <em>hates</em> it.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, your special friend over there is waiting for you to come out.” The policeman indicates and points to the half-closed door. “Put this incident behind you, have a good rest of the day.”</p><p>Shouyou slowly stands up from his seat and brushes his pants with his hands. “Thank you, sir.”</p><p> </p><p>He walks towards the door, greeting Tobio with a guilty smile and a hug.</p><p>“Sorry,” he whispers.</p><p>“It’s okay. Let’s catch an uber back to your place.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Atsumu-san</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span class="u">6:31pm, Saturday</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sho-kun!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Are you coming to poker night with the other members?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I can’t.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I got a fine from the police.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Also, I think Meian’s pissed with me.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Ehhhh? What did you do?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I punched a guy.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>What a disappointment. Shouyou can’t wait to cut tonight.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I tried to write a bit of fluff... probably not my strong suit. It only gets worse from here.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Will be continued.<br/>Feedback is appreciated! &lt;3</p><p>(This is a revamp of an old wattpad story I started about a year ago!)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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